


Haircuts

by Azuremosquito



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azuremosquito/pseuds/Azuremosquito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short reply to a writing prompt "Something about Anders' hair. Maybe the morning routine of tying it up- or thoughts on why he keeps it longer in the first place."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haircuts

It was getting long again. Anders stared at his reflection in the cracked, cloudy shard of glass that passed for his mirror and fingered the shoulder-length blond strands.

 

Too long, really. It got in his way whenever he looked down to get something from his bag. It fell across his eyes at least ten times an hour no matter how carefully he tied it up. By the end of a long day in the clinic, at least half of it would have escaped its restraints, making him wonder why he bothered pulling it up at all.

 

Anders couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a proper haircut. Probably with the Wardens. The Commander had taken it upon herself once, claiming his unruly hair made him look like a homeless apostate. Which he was, but that was beside the point, as far as Tabris was concerned. He'd been forced to endure her fussing for nearly an hour with all the good grace he could muster and he hadn't the heart to tell her it was crooked when she was finally through.

 

Since then, keeping his hair neatly trimmed was often pushed to the side, low on the totem pole of priorities for a man who was so busy he usually forgot to sleep. When it got truly irritating, he'd pull out his belt knife and hack off the offending bit, which probably explained why it was so uneven now. Beyond that, it was tied back and forgotten. 

 

But lately, he'd found his hand stayed whenever he thought to cut it back to a manageable length. Not by any physical means but the memory of offhand remarks.

 

_ “I like when your hair does that thing.” _

 

_ “What thing?” _

 

_ “You know. The thing.” At his blank stare, Hawke had explained, “How it falls across your eyes like that.” They had gestured vaguely toward his face. “It makes you look dashing.” _

 

Dashing. 

 

That was a new one. Once he might’ve agreed with the sentiment with all the vanity of the handsome, charming young man he'd been, but time and trials had a way of changing a person. He no longer gave his appearance any thought, or what look might suit him best and attract the most partners. No, these days his thoughts were devoted to other things. Like revolution and change. 

 

Yet still his hands refrained from chopping off his hair. Surely he could deal with it for a few more days. It wasn't  _ that  _ long. 

 

It would be another month before it'd come to his attention again and then he'd find yet another reason to delay. A patient would walk through the doors. He'd think of something profound to add to his manifesto and he'd spend the rest of the night writing instead of sleeping. 

 

Hawke would comment on his hair or find an excuse to touch it and Anders would chide himself for the pleased flush of warmth that would shoot through him. They couldn't afford such distractions. Justice’s thought, but true nevertheless. Then the whole process would start again. 

 

“Hey Anders, I'm heading out to the Wounded Coast today and I could-” Hawke cut off as they entered his private quarters at the back of the clinic and just stared. Then they grinned. “Wow, your hair’s getting really long. I don't think I've ever seen you wear it down.” As Anders automatically reached for his hair tie, Hawke added, “It’s a good look.” 

 

The healer let his hands fall back to his sides. Maybe he'd forego the ponytail today...


End file.
